Animatter
by monosymetric-indoxyl
Summary: Yes, this is another DN Fanfic. The main characters Devon and Parker are 100% Mine. I don't own DN, or I wouldn't be here. Writing armature fan fiction/ Eventual OCxMatt, OCxL, OCxLight and OCxMatsuda. Not all the same OC, that's just slutbaggish xD
1. Reverse

DN Characters do not belong to me. I know you know this, but there's always the one dumb ass that thinks you're trying to take credit for it.

The pale ivory-skinned Estonian girl poured a mass of sugar, cinnamon and peanut butter into a rather large salad bowl, mixing it into a hefty glob then proceeded to dig the spoon in; to begin eating the sugary mess. "PARKER EDEN! That is NOT breakfast! That is not even food!" her companion yelled at her pointing to the bowl; as she shoveled a spoonful into her mouth, this added a sheet of annoyance across her friend's flawless Arabian features. The multi color haired girl revealed no intention of giving up her diabetes-in-a-bowl breakfast "food." Devon sighed over-dramatically at her friend's lack of concern for her health, or at least what's left of it anyway. "You know Dev, just 'cause you're a sprout-headed humanitarian, doesn't mean I have to be one too." she said sharply, looking at her olive-skinned friend. Then taking another glob of the sugar-coated peanut butter into her mouth spitefully grinning in distaste of her friend's maternal-like nagging. Parker was not a morning person. Come to think of it, she wasn't really an anytime person. But mornings were especially intolerable. So why not just let her have what she wanted at least once in a while without giving her shit about it? "And just because YOU don't care about shortening your life with all of those horrible toxins you put into your poor body, doesn't mean I don't! And not to mention that…" Devon trailed on and on. She had hardly been listening to her rant about living 'as long as you can, because you only get one life to live…" blah, blah, blah, 'medical expenses' blah insurance policies, and blah, and blah, and more BLAH. She rolled her eyes at her neurotic friend and continued the consumption of her sweet bowl of fattening food product. As long as she never gained weight, and still had all of her body parts, she didn't care. Anything further than that she eliminated from her mind.

She backwardly climbed up on top of the washing machine that was placed in their cramped kitchen._ 'This apartment is ridiculous…we'll have to find a new place soon.'_ She thought as she crossed her legs Indian-style looking thoughtfully out the window the dully lit city skyline. It was about 12:00 pm when she'd finally woken up. Devon already bitched about her sleeping in, and now she was complaining about her food? She still had somewhat of a hangover from the previous night, and did not enjoy all of the yelling. "Seriously though, what is with you? You either don't eat at all, or you eat something that is completely atrocious for you. And what's with staying out all night and sleeping until indecently late in the afternoon?" Devon observed. "Well, gotta get my calories from somewhere, and c'mon, it's not like I go out every night. Most of my nights I'm working late. Besides, it isn't like I'm whoring around and bringing in strange men." she said sticking her tongue out with the 'food' on it then grinning. Devon looked at her with an appalled expression. "That is not an excuse, and THAT," she pointed at the food dangling out on her tongue "…is disgusting." and rolled her eyes in annoyance. He dark haired friend headed over to the fridge that was almost directly next to the washing machine. She pulled out a bag spinach leaves, a tomato, and several radishes. Setting them on the counter she retrieved a bowl and a knife. Dumping the spinach leaves into the bowl, she looked over toward Parker, who had been giving her an identical look to the one she herself had made not to long ago at her. She hopped off the clinking washing machine and burped loudly. "Almost done, your turn to hang 'em." she said referring to the clothes in the machine pointing to it behind her with her thumb, much like a hitch-hiker. On her way out of the kitchen, she tossed her bowl into the sink, spoon clattering as the bowl tilted. She turned the faucet on to let the bowl soak so it didn't turn to cement due to being forgotten. She made her exit, leaving her friend to make her "rabbit food" as she liked to call it.

Returning to the dark dwellings of her heavily curtained room, she kicked the mess that was in her path, walking over to the closet to grab her work clothes. Growling to herself at her demanding job, and her lack of ambition to do anything productive with her life. But she had to pull her weight around here, and it was only fair to Devon. She owed her that much for basically parenting her for the past seven or eight years. Even though she was quite the independent type, it was still nice to have someone to watch out for you, and show compassion and concern for your existence. Not like her useless deadbeat parents. As she finished getting herself clothed, she made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Squeezing the tube too hard, she forced an excessive amount of toothpaste onto the brush. Not caring, she stuffed it in her mouth and began scrubbing the little bones attached to her jaw.

As she stepped out, looking for her shoes, she had a large amount of foam leaking from her lip. Causing her to look like she had rabies. Feeling it drip nearly to her chin, she leaned out the window she was near, and spit the large amount of minty bubbles on the fire escape. "Oh yeah, that's womanly." Devon snorted from behind the newspaper sipping her stupid hipster tea, picking at her overly healthy salad as Parker slipped her other shoe on. She rolled her eyes at her all too proper friend. "You're a ball of sunshine today, huh?" she said sarcastically erecting her middle finger (that her friend unfortunately didn't see) and evilly smiling at her on her way out the stepped unwillingly down the eight flights of stairs. A new route she'd taken to avoid the token fat guy every apartment building has, that you always get stuck in the elevator with. Yanking a ten dollar bill from her pants pocket, she stepped into the 7-11 that was quite conveniently located only a few buildings apart from her apartment. Slapping the ten on the counter, she spoke her request. "Pack of F-sixes." she said looking at the clock wondering how much longer she had to get away with being late. The man ogled her curiously. "S'cuse me missy, can I have some ID?" he said in scrutiny. She sighed in annoyance and slapped her driver's license on the counter. Not that it'd be of any use, seeing as how she was too poor to afford a god damn car. He examined it closely "Alright c'mon, I'm in a rush here Paco." she said clearly annoyed. Muttering to himself, offended at her racist name dub, he pulled a pack of her beloveds from behind the counter and registered the ten. Returning a whole four dollars and three cents. _'Wow. That's just great. They raised the fucking price…again.'_ She thought as she angrily walked out the door.

Scratching the newly pierced area of her upper ear, she missed about nine cabs that were darted for by obnoxious, pigheaded businessmen. "Yeah, thanks a lot. Ya fuckin' cock knocker!" she yelled, face close to the cab's backseat window so she was sure he heard her; raising her arms at the door which had been slammed in her face after her tiny figure had been shoved to the side by another suit. "I'll get a cab by the time I'm fucking 30 at this rate." she mumbled to herself, extremely irritated at the rude man from just moments ago. "Now I have to walk…And I'm gonna be late. Fucking cock suckers." She emphasized the last portion of her statement in her on her way there, her ankle almost gave way to the stress pressure she put on her thin muscular legs. Beginning to slow down because of this, she determinedly reminded herself that if she got fired, she'd have to see the other side of Devon when she got home. And that was something less affordable than losing her job. She picked up her pace again, now sprinting toward the direction of the building.

-If you like it, let me know. I'll probably be more inclined to add more if that's the case-


	2. Sepulchre

Her ankle clicked unpleasantly, and she knew what might come next. Grinding her teeth together she said "Swear, if I get another stress break, I am going to slaughter all of the cows in the world for not producing a single drop of efficient god damned milk." Disregarding the fact that her nutrition consisted mainly of junk food and cigarettes Now her ankle was bothering her. _'Eh fuck it. I'll just take the bus.'_ She thought to herself as she backtracked her steps to the bus stop she'd just passed. She waited impatiently at the bus stop. I've got 45 minutes to get there, and it's about a half hour for the bus ride, and another twenty minutes to get to the actual location on foot after that...This bus better hurry the fuck up. She thought, not even realizing that the man standing next to her was asking if she had a light. She really only heard the words as it registered in her mind that she needed some nicotine as well. "Oh. Yeah sure." she said plainly, not even so much as glancing at him as she dug into her large canvas bag to retrieve it. She pulled it out along with her F-sixes.

The courtesy of cigarette smokers applied even to strangers. You light theirs first. She barely took note of his appearance, other than his odd choice of clothing. Before she lit him up, she noticed the pack in his hand, and made a comment about his choice of cancer. "Really? You smoke Marlboro reds?" she said, arching one brow disapprovingly. Then he shrugged and said, "Hey, they're cheap and they aren't too bad." his voice as unique as his appearance. Then the distinct sound of a lighter flicking to life, then the burning squeal of the first inhale of a lit cigarette took over in place of conversation. "Gracias mistress." he said and before she could retort with a snappy response along the lines of _"I'm not your fucking 'mistress.'"_ he had already begun walking toward, and getting into a red car parked nearby. _'What a weirdo...'_ She thought.

"Fucking finally." she said as she stepped toward the large vehicle. The change from her hands clinked in the slot and she took her seat. A few stops then after, a rather large man sat next to her taking nearly both seats. Crushing her small frame against the window. _'Why? Why always me? Why always the fat ones? Or the creepy ones?'_ She thought and damned all public transportation. The rest the bus ride dragged on as one would expect it to. Crying children, elderly people coughing, rotund, pungently scented men squishing you. As her stop was nearing she struggled to get her arm free from the tiny space she had to pull the rope and signify a stop. After stepping off the bus she shook out her jacket, and doused it with the perfume from her bag. "I am not smelling like dead fish that have been spoiling on the docks for three days." she said to herself recollecting what that fat man smelled of. She eventually arrived at her workplace building _'Well at least I got to work sort of on time.'_ She thought as she swiped her ID card at the door, entered her pass-code, and was granted access to the building. "Another day, another death, another scumbag goes in the slammer." she said on her way to her office-like area.

It was 4:00 by the time the information of a mock Jack The Ripper case came in. And 10:00 by the time they had traced evidence and people back to the killer. "Sometimes, I feel like this job is too easy, eh, Parker?" her clumsy-looking coworker, Rick said and nudged her elbow. "Heh, yeah." she said not looking up from her desk. He was the one guy she just wanted to be friends with because he was actually a friend. And every other male in the office treated her like a piece of meat. But ever since a few weeks ago, when they were having lunch and he tried to kiss her, she's been a little less than willing to interact with him. "Hey, it's about break time isn't it?" Rick said hinting that he needed to talk to her about something where no one could hear them. 'Great.' she thought, 'He's going to want to talk about that stupid time he tried to kiss me.' internally rolling her eyes, dreading the conversation. So they'd go out for a smoke. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be there in a second."

"So you're telling me, that there's a world famous serial killer, rumored to be in Japan, at this very moment- and has been for the past few years; and the United States government is keeping it from even us?" she said in a firm low voice and took a long, angry drag of her cigarette. Rick nodded, and exhaled. "Exactly. And we're one of the world's top investigation corps. You'd think they'd want help right?" she nodded confused. "Well, it's been said, that L is working on the case right now. And has a huge task force helping him out...I don't know if that's true, but I wanna know more about this..." he said curiously. Parker stood there, nearly frozen. _'L. L is leading the Kira investigation...It has to be true.'_ She kept the thought to herself. "That's a little absurd." she said in a questioning voice. "Don't you think though? That the world's most famous, and impossibly powerful serial killer is facing L, the world's most incredible and-" she cut him off. "Rick, listen. I don't wanna ruin your little fantasy world here, but if this Kira guy was real, and that famous, I think we'd have already known about him somehow if it's been going on for a few years already. It seems a little far-fetched." she said covering the truth. "Yeah, I suppose so. But you've got to admit, if it was a rumor or a hoax, it's pretty damn elaborate."

By the time she got home from work it was about 1:30am, Devon was already asleep. "I guess it'll have to wait til tomorrow." she said putting her bag on the wobbly kitchen table. Not even bothering to turn on any lights she made her way through the homely apartment she knew so well. Reaching her bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and sat at the end of the bed. "We have a long road ahead." she said to herself and sighed deeply, taking off and tossing her clothes onto the floor and crawling under the covers. Falling asleep too easily to the muffled sounds of the lively city outside.

-More updates soon! :3


	3. Memory Souvenirs

-Time skip of about a week-

Parker lay in bed relishing her day off for a good hour, waiting for Devon to go to work so she could avoid dealing with the nagging of her poor diet. Devon was a lucky one (for work hours anyway). She worked at a children's hospital. Four days a week. Wednesday through Saturday, and got ten hour days. And an hour break for lunch. Devon did love her job. She loved kids, and helping people in general. It's arguable that there are variable and x-factors that could be complained about though. Parker thought about how nice it was to have that job, then remembered she couldn't stand most children, or most children's parents. It's not like she didn't love her job, she did. But there were certain things she wished she could change. Like her hours for instance. Monday through Friday. Five days a week, and worked from 3pm until 12am. Sometimes stayed later if the case had enough a pull.

But that wasn't really something that bothered her. It was the majority of people who worked there that did it. The only other females in her department (and there were only two) were miserable, typical, bitchy women. One a bit over middle age, with a failing marriage and bipolar disorder. Jane. She had short dim brown curly hair, pale squinted blue eyes, that always seemed to be scrutinizing and judging you. And she stood at about 5'7" and around 120lbs. She was gaunt, and her face wasn't very friendly or very pretty. Parker sort of felt sorry for her though. Maybe she was so nasty to everyone because of her failing marriage. Or maybe her marriage was failing because she was nasty. None of them really knew. And the other, was Sera. Sera, was much different from Jane; she was about 23, and very pretty. But in the "typical" kind of way, I guess one could say. Straight black hair that reached her shoulders, dark fox-like brown eyes, unnatural tanned skin, and a thin but moderately shapely body, decorated with Versace, Gucci, and all of those rich bitch snob name brands that say _"Hey, I spent more money on my little Chihuahua's sweater than you did on your car!"_ . She looked like Kim Kardashian, but had a much smaller bust, and no ass. This girl was also a raging nymphomaniac, who only got the job because she fucked the right people. Not to mention she is now on the notification list for genital herpes. So I guess she got what she deserved for quite literally screwing other people out of the job position.

The rest of the workplace were men. All of them either looking down on her because she's a female, or wanting to jump in bed with her. Or sometimes even both. The worst two were Harry and Jason. Harry, 32, **married**, and a chauvinistic pig. Like a true politician. He was fit, a bit tan, brown eyes, brown hair. He looked like an average man, but in his own eyes he was untouchable. He could do no wrong, but no one else could do any right. He never made mistakes. This man must be god. Well, that's what he likes to think anyway. Always jumping at absolutely anything without male genitalia. As for Jason, he might just be worse than Harry. A slender "figure" pale, dark, scraggly hair that reached his jaw, piercing blue eyes that were more frightening than pretty. And had what Rich liked to call it, a _"Shit-eating rapist grin."_ Sex. He's all about it and nearly nothing else other than his job. He's either talking about it, thinking about it, or doing it. Or trying to get it. This man is probably perfect for Sera -if he wasn't so strange looking, she'd probably already be on that- Putting it nicely, Jason is the biggest creep in the department. Parker has many times over suspected that he needs to be locked up somewhere, and undergo treatment to not constantly wanting to fuck anything that moves. Or doesn't move.

And then, there was Parker.

Parker was an oddity in most cases. Standing at 5 foot nothing, and weighed about 113lbs at best. She had killer curves though. Something she was considerably lucky to have. Most females had to wear push-up bras and certain styles of clothing to look that way. Her complexion a snowy, pale color. Not sick looking, but more like a little porcelain doll. She had several beauty marks scattered across her ivory skin. Large cat-like moss green eyes. With long, thick, dark lashes that framed them. And a pair of delicately arched brows. Sculpted, yet feminine cheekbones, and full candy peach colored lips, that accented her pixie like nose. Her hair was pretty unusual as well. White blonde, with low-lights dyed black along the underneath, and thin blood red streaks peeking through as well.

As she internally compared the different appearances of herself and the two other women in her department she wondered when Devon would be leaving for work. She never took this long. Maybe she left already and she just didn't notice? Parker peered through the cracked door to see if Devon's bag was on the table. Negative. Which gave her the go-ahead to make her way out of her light-less bedroom area and be free to have a cigarette on the windowsill. She shuffled back into her "room" and dug around in her bag to grab her cancer sticks. She opened the window and perched herself and lit up. She took a long thoughtful drag as she looked over at the apartment window across from her. '…L. Working on the case…L…' she thought. And as she thought about her childhood idol, old memories of Wammy's came flooding back to her mind. How she always used to get into trouble by Roger because she was always in fights. Because all the boys were immature and used to make Devon cry. And how Mello and Matt used to make fun of Parker. Calling her ugly, and telling her she couldn't hangout with them because she was a girl. None of that mattered now. It used to rile her up in those days though. But she wouldn't change any of it. Regardless of the hard times they gave her, she was fond of those memories.

She quickly finished her cigarette, the cold wind reminding her that a tank top and underwear was not the appropriate attire for a windowsill in the middle of winter. Not to mention, she also felt a little strange. As though she were being watched. The thought skived her out and she went back in, shutting the window and the curtains. She hadn't had this feeling many times before, but the few times she did, she had been right. Which made her even more uncomfortable. She decided a shower would be a good way to get rid of unnerving thoughts. She stood in the tiny bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Exhaling with a large sigh, she pulled her tank top off, revealing a relatively toned abdomen and back. Blemished with a pair of two large, thick scars. One over her ribs, and the other in between her hip bone and navel. She ran her thin fingers over them and the memory was just a memory now. She removed the rest of her clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the water on to an absurdly hot temperature. Fogging the bathroom so she couldn't see her own hand in front of her. _'He'll always be watching me. I'll never forget his face…Watching me, from the corners of my mind. Always there.'_ she thought as she slipped into a morose state of thought, and let the shower fog consume her, sliding down the shower wall to sit in the corner of the tub.

-This chapter's a bit slow, but it's part of the build to the story ^ ^

Let me know what you think; critiques always welcome :3


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